


Rosario

by Beryl_Vakarian



Series: Rosario [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Explicit Language, Some Humor, maybe some sex, so much explicit language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-26 04:04:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6222970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beryl_Vakarian/pseuds/Beryl_Vakarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The blonde sure did talk a lot. I woke up dazed and rationally irritated for someone who was bound and bruised. I swear to the nine I came back for a fucking funeral! Yet here I am, on a wagon, with prisoners of a damned war (which is news to me), most likely on my way to my own demise. </p>
<p>Rosario Arnitdottir just wants to be left alone, but it appears all of Skyrim won't get off her back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing of the Elder Scrolls series

CHAPTER ONE

The blonde sure did talk a lot. I woke up dazed and rationally irritated for someone who was bound and bruised. I swear to the nine I came back for a fucking funeral! Yet here I am, on a wagon, with prisoners of a damned war (which is news to me), most likely on my way to my own demise. 

“Would you two shut up?” My plea was completely ignored by the blonde man, Ralof, and the idiot horse thief next to him. Ralof continued to wax poetic about the bound and gagged man beside me.  
The revered Jarl Ulfric, but to me just an uppity hungry power idiot with the knowledge of an art that should have been long lost. I cast a sidelong look at the defeated looking Jarl and crinkled my curved nose in distaste. No one should be able to just shout at someone and be able to blow them to the void and back. 

It dawned on me that Ralof was looking at me intently as he talked about some girl he used to fool around with from Helgen. Disregarding his attempts at remembering the  
better times I waved my bound hands dismissively. 

“So we’re in Helgen?” I knocked my head back trying to get a good view of the tall stone walls and wooden buildings. 

“Aye. End of the line.” Curiously I watched him square his shoulders and put on a brave face. I arched a thick dark brow at him and pursed my lips.

“Well, maybe for you. I didn’t do gods damned thing to end up here. Surely they’ll listen to reason.” The bastard Nord smirked cynically. 

“Come now kinsmen, if the Legion could be reasoned with we wouldn’t be in this mess.” I clenched my jaw and flared my nostrils. My hands instinctively reached up to run through my dreadlocked hair but stopped around my nose, I couldn’t even properly show my frustration. Hopefully the man with the quill and board would prove to be reasonable. 

“You. You’re not on the list who are you?” The man twirled his quill around looking me up and down. Even though I was I didn’t look very Nordic. My skin dark almost like that of a Redguard, my cheekbones high, eyes dark and slanted, my nose curved softly downward, and my hair dark as a starless night shaved at the sides and deadlocked on top. I never knew my mother, she left before I could, but I’m certain I didn’t get my looks from blonde haired and blue eyed father. Speaking of whom, had recently passed, and I was going to miss his funeral. Oblivion take these fools.

“My name is Rosario Arnidottir.” I held my head high knowing that my first name was not Nordic. Just another parting gift from dear old mother. The man furrowed his bushy brows heavily sighing.  
“She’s not on the list. What should we do with her?”  
“Forget the list. She goes to the block.” The voice was unforgiving and the woman didn’t even bother to glance my way as she spoke. I breathed in deeply closing my eyes before I mustered up all the saliva in my mouth and spat. It hit her shoe with a satisfying splat. The bitch was on me in a second. She tugged sharply on my hair and brought her sword up to my throat.  
“For that you’ll go next.” Amidst the fear and adrenaline I managed to roll my eyes at her display. But then she shoved me by the neck towards the executioner. I crumpled to the ground as she kicked in my knees. I stared the hooded figure down as she continued, very angrily I might add, to smash the side of my face into the bloodied wood. It was warm and wet and not at all pleasant. He started to raise his axe when we heard it. A roar like a thousand horns that shook the very mountains that shadowed our little gathering.  
The executioner stumbled back at first but regained his footing staring dumbly at the woman I had spat on.  
“A small bit of thunder scare you? It was nothing carry on with it!” She waved at me shooing away his fears. He lifted his axe and started to thrust upward. My last thought was almost “Did I eat today?” Wise and poetic right? But then the roar came again closer and then we all saw it. Eyes wide I tried to shout but I couldn’t make a noise as it breathed a shout and threw me from my kneeling position. The executioner flew backwards from where he stood and then finally someone screamed it. 

“Dragon!” 

Ralof was there in a second shouting for me to follow him as I scrambled to stand up. Nails clawed at dirt as I shoved up into a running position dodging debris and spitballs of fire. I didn’t notice I had made it into a tower as I ran into the rebel Jarl himself. Looking down his nose Ulfric shoved me away before turning to talk to his men. I silently cursed the bastard before turning to jog up the steps. I figured that if I got to the top of the tower I could at least poke my head out and see what was happening outside, but I had no such luck. 

I barely rolled back a step before being smashed into pieces by rocks. The dragon had brutally slammed his skull through the side of the tower breathing fire that burned even from a distance. The Stormcloak ahead of me had not been so lucky, I didn’t dare look towards his mangled and burnt body. I saw my chance to escape the rebels and the dragon in one go through the newly formed exit made via angry flying lizard. 

“Well.” Was all I got out before I leapt from the hole in the tower to a hole in a burnt down roof. Landing was not graceful as I ran forward a few feet and slid the rest of the way on hands and knees. And let me tell you, burnt splintering wood is not good for the skin. I let out a small groan before picking myself up as best as I could with my bound hands. 

I heard a loud 'woosh' as the dragon flew overhead of the house and I instinctively crouched as I crept toward the edge of the floor. The drop down to the first floor of the burning house was much more graceful than the first drop.  
Less heat and splinters. 

Running out of the building I saw quill man grabbing a child shouting words of encouragement. He wasn’t on my top ten list of favorite people, but for now he would have to do. Oblivion knows he probably didn’t talk as much as Ralof. 

I slowly walked towards where the Legionnaire was standing. If I’m lucky he won’t respond too poorly to an escapee. With a shout he told me to follow him and I sent a quick thanks to the nine before scurrying after him.  
We were nearly set ablaze by the dragon as it settled on the wall above our heads. I flattened my back to the wall barely breathing as though the sound of my pants would turn the dragon to me. Wide eyed I chased after Quill man as he sped off in a burst through fire and falling rock to another tower across town. 

Turning the corner I ran into the armored back of Quill across from him stood Ralof. 

“Hadvar get out-“ Oh fuck no. Did they really need to have a stand off right now? 

“Now is not the time for petty posturing there is a gods damned dragon pillaging Helgen!” I threw my bound fists towards the sky and they both turned to me glaring. Ralof ran first helpfully suggesting I go with him. He talked too much, I ran with Quill man. 

Once we slammed the heavy wooden doors shut he turned to me and drew his dagger. I tensed up and glared. Would he really slaughter me bound?

“You want me to remove those for you?” He gestured to the thick rope on my writers, twirling his dagger as he had his quill. 

“Yes, please.” I shoved my hands toward him listening in bliss to the sound of steel on rope. He nodded towards a chest near the end of the room and told me to get some armor on. I pulled out some standard Imperial armor and started to tug my shirt off before turning to Quill. 

“You wanna,” I spun a finger in a circular motion and he seemed to take the hint coughing and turning to stand in the opposite corner. I quickly tugged off my tattered clothing and pulled on the armor latching and buckling all of the little clips and belts.  
As I pulled on the boots I made a noise that he could turn around and he started gathering weapons placing them on one of the many beds in the room. Must have been a guards barrack. I scanned over the weapons he offered grunting in disapproval. A simple steel sword, a mace, and a long bow with a few arrows. I grabbed the quiver adjusting it to my back and slung the bow over my right shoulder. 

“Got any more daggers?” I glanced at Quill and arched a thick brow. He sucked on his lower lip in thought before turning and looting a few knapsacks. He turned back with an iron dagger and a steel one. Better than nothing I guess. With a curt nod I took the daggers and gave them a spin before sheathing them. 

“We better move on.” Quill suggested before opening the door. We were immediately barraged by a couple of Stormcloak soldiers. Quill went in left ducking under a war axe and coming up to slam the point of his short sword into the soldiers chest.  
I moved more fluidly to the side of the battle coming up from behind the second soldier to slit their throat and lay them down gently. I enjoyed a good fight as much as the next Nord, but only with people I had actual dicontent with. 

Quill was already running down a staircase to the left. When I got down to him a door to my left was wide open and I heard fighting coming from inside. Before I could reach the door though a roar quaked the building sending rocks falling down from the ceiling. I took a deep breath as I tumbled and leaned on a wall for support. I couldn’t hear anymore fighting as I continued into the room. Across the room by barrels was Quill rummaging through a stormcloak soldiers bags. 

“Look for some healing potions would you? We might need them.” I was quick to acquiesce to his demands. I mean that’s the most he’d talked to me. The man deserved some respect. I smiled a little to myself as I shoved bottle after bottle of potions into my small pouch, I really wasn’t letting that go. 

Quill stood by yet another door waiting for me to carry on our way. Down another set of stairs was a torture chamber. I stopped and gagged at the chained and lacerated bodies in cages and on the walls. Who in oblivion could be this fucked? Turning I saw the torturer happened to wear Imperial Legion armor. Ah that’s who.  
Just so it is known, torture? Super fucky. I couldn’t really stop myself as I stalked towards the imperial torturer and twisted my dagger up through the soft skin underneath of his jaw tearing my dagger to the left. All in the blink of an eye. Quill stared at me slowly turning his gaze to the blood pooling from the torturers throat. 

“I didn’t approve.” Was all I said before rifling through a small knapsack on the round table in the middle of the room. A few health potions and some lockpicks. It was nice to have the feather light weight of lock picks in my hand. I took to one of the cages with a mage and few coins in it. 

Taking the money I turned to look at Quill. He was still standing there mesmerized by the blood. There goes my help then. Turning on my heel to leave I almost didn’t hear him breathe out “I don’t either.” In my surprise I turned to look at him as he trudged silently ahead of me. By the nine they aren’t all simple calves then! 

Our journey continued through a few more rooms until we hit a small cave. It was in this cave that we heard another roar and I decided I really wanted to kill that fucking dragon. I started to race onward. Behind me was the clanging of armor and the heavy pants of Quill as he tried to keep up. He wasn’t nearly as motivated. Stopping at a small stream I spotted a bear sleeping. I held up a hand signaling that Quill should stay still. 

“By the Gods woman why were you running?” He spat out as walking up to me. He bent over trying to catch his breath. 

“I want to kill that damned dragon.” I snapped in a harsh whisper. The poor man shot up and looking absolutely horrified. 

“You want to what!?” Quill was a little to loud for my liking so I touched a blade to his lips and shushed him. 

“Don’t wake the bear you idiot. And I want to fight the dragon because I don’t like assholes especially the ones who talk too much. And he’s up there shouting up a fuckin storm.” Oddly Quill snorted. Slanted eyes narrowed in anger as I sheathed my dagger again. 

“Come on soldier move quietly I don’t want to fight a bear.” I crouched low and made my way across the clearing in the cave silently. He followed behind matching my pace and stealth. 

“You won’t fight a bear but you’ll fight a dragon. Perfect sense.” Quill muttered to me under has breath.

“You’re damn right I won’t. The bear wasn’t being an asshole. He’s just being a bear.” I rubbed my nose harshly as I smelled fire and smoke. The exit was close.

“Well the dragon is just being a dragon.”  
Why oh why did he have to start talking so much? I straightened out and pinched the bridge of my nose leaning against a tunnel wall. I thought for a moment staring at Quill as he stood by the opposite wall of the small tunnel. 

“You think that kid is still alive?” It was horrible to ask I know, but I had to. He clenched his jaw and looked at me hard. 

“You’re right. That dragon is an asshole.” I nodded quickly before kicking off the wall into a run. We ran out into the bright sun bouncing off of the white snow and watched the Dragon fly away free of wounds. I screamed and peeled off a boot throwing it in the direction of the lizard as it flew off not looking back once. 

“FUCK!” The curse sprang freely from my lips echoing off of the cold mountainside. Quill stood there staring up where the dragon had been. Grumbling I picked up my boot sliding it back onto my now wet foot. 

“By the nine we were this close!” I thrust my thumb and index finger into his face. He slowly pushed my hand away and looked at me, eyes dark with suspicion. 

“You curse by the nine and not the eight?” What is he on about now?

“Yes, most Nords do. Why?” Quill scratched his head and let out sigh. 

“How long have you been away from Skyrim kinsmen?” 

“Long enough not to know there was a war going on. I have been excavating in Solstheim for the past six years looking for artifacts lost after the red mountain covered the land with ash. I came back for my father’s funeral. Not that your war seems to care. Ralof, because he must relish in hearing his own voice, already filled me in on Jarl Ulfric’s stupidity.” Conversing so was becoming tiring. I began to walk down the path not really caring if Quill followed me. 

“I’m sorry about your father, may Arkay bless him and Sovengarde welcome him. So you support the Legion then? Even if you still go by the nine and not the eight which by the way the Thalmor declared Talos not divine, and adjusted religion accordingly. Talos worship is forbidden now so be wary of whom you curse around.” He quickened his pace to keep up with me before he became to talk again.  
“Also you may call me Hadvar.” 

Great now not only as he becoming increasingly more chatty he was also becoming comfortable around me.

“I’m Rosario, but you know that. And I do not support the legion. Did you not hear me back there? I don’t like assholes. So that means Ulfric and the Thalmor are high on my list of people that can shove it up their-” There was a howl to our right and I crouched into a defensive stance taking out my daggers. A wolf jumped at me and I shot a foot out kicking it out of the air. It landed with a thump and a whine as I quickly slit it’s throat whispering a short prayer to Arkay. 

“The Thalmor want peace and order!” Hadvar grunted as he grappled with his own wolf. Gods he even managed to speak as he fought. I threw a dagger hard into the head of the wolf that Hadvar had in a headlock. As I pulled it from the skull with a slick crack I looked up at him from my kneeling position. I stared him in the eyes as my mouth moved in the familiar prayer to Arkay. 

“The Thalmor want power. Just as Ulfric does. So I support neither. If that bothers you then leave.” I stood and turned back down the path. Unfortunately for me I heard the familiar crunching of footsteps behind me. 

“It doesn’t bother me enough I guess. I’m just glad you’re not a stormcloak and that we aren’t dead.” I rolled my eyes and flared my nostrils. 

“That’s the spirit.” I muttered and kicked at some dead bushes as we continued our journey in silence. We reached a small, and I mean small, town called Riverwood where Hadvar had some relatives who would help us get some food and medical attention. Health potions only went so far.


	2. Chapter Two

 

I walked through the towns only cobbled street taking in the rustic shops. A smithy, a small merchants shop, and an inn. I ducked into the small shop called Riverwood Traders almost walking into a young woman.

“Camilla you simply can’t go. I refuse to debate any further!” An older man behind the stores counter crossed his arms firmly. So far neither noticed me. Content with staying out of yet another dispute I took my time to peruse the small shop. There were small shelves stocked with a variety of potions and foods.

“Well Lucan maybe if you would hire someone I wouldn’t feel the urge to go! The claw is valuable brother. We need it back!” Camilla shrilled arms tossing about wildly in passionate frustration.

“ _It has been a long time since I had a nice hunk of goat cheese. No goats in Dunmeri ruins._ ” I hummed fingertips gently drumming on the small pouch attached at my hip. I had found a good sum of septims on the dead stormcloak soldiers and that caged mage. As I stood there, brows furrowed and mouth synched pondering, I noticed a sudden lack of arguing.

“You. You look like the kind of woman who can pull her weight and more!” Two small hands shot out and clasped my shoulders dragging me away from the stocked shelves. I made a noise quite like a growl and rolled my shoulders from the woman’s weak grip.

“What?” My harsh tone didn’t put a dent into the girl, Camilla’s bright grin. “

You’re perfect! My brother can explain to you what you need to do. I’ll meet you outside to lead you where you’ll need to go!” And with that Camilla disappeared with a bounce in her gait right out the front door. Breathing deeply I dragged my tired eyes towards her brother. Lucan rubbed the heel of his palm into his forehead and let out an irritated sigh.

“I’m sorry about her traveler. She does not comprehend a thing about the world. And yet she traipses through it with the courage of an ancient hero.” He moved from behind his wooden counter to lean on the side of it. I stood silently unmoving as his gaze swept over me from head to toe and back up, “Although,” he muttered, “She might just be right about you being what we need.” I rolled my eyes and waved my hand to move him along. He straightened up and coughed abashedly. “We lost this valuable artifact to a few bandits. It was like our stores mascot really. A dragons claw made out of solid gold with little symbols carved into the underneath. We would greatly appreciate it if you would get it back for us.”

Dragging gloved fingers through my hair I nodded and cleared my throat. “Will I be rewarded?”

“Handsomely.”

If I get enough gold I could get a carriage ride, have safe passage to Riften, and be in time for father’s burial rites.

“I’ll get your claw and be back by morning. Its just bandits you say?” Lucan looked up from his feet wide eyed and grinning.

“Yes! Just bandits, and they’re holed up in that gods forsaken Bleakfalls Barrow. It looms over Riverwood. Really, it’s hard to miss, Camilla will set you on the path to get to it quickly. May the eight go with you traveler.”

Another small nod to Lucan, I gave the cheese one last forlorn glance before opening the door. “ _I’ll just have to wait for that._ ”

Camilla was rocking back and forth on her feet by the entrance of the small town. She seemed sharp and eager. Surely she could become someone talented, someone to be feared. What a waste. I didn’t give more than a nod to the young maiden as I passed by. I really had done so much talking today.

We had only just started to walk towards the bridge when I heard a great bustle of clanking and panting from behind. “ _No no no no._ ” I quickened my pace and refused to look back.

“Rosario!” I started up a slow jog.

“Lady Arnidottir!” The slow jog morphed into a run. I was almost to the bridge. The clanking didn’t stop but Camilla did and she grabbed me by the belt to keep me from continuing my escape.

“You need directions!” She breathed heavily and leaned on one of the short walls of the bridge. I gripped my mohawk tightly desperately wanting her to get on with it. She was still gripping my belt tightly as she regained her breath and posture.

“Go Northwest up the path. It’s enormous and as dark as the void. Truly you won’t miss it.” That was what she made me wait for!? I flashed a smile that probably looked like a pained grimace before dashing off but it was too late. I was pummeled into the dirt by a hefty legionnaire. One with no sense of dignity or understanding of personal space circles. My circle was at least as big as this small shoddy town.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Hadvar gasped and held out his hand to help me up.

“Yes.” I hissed between my teeth and rolled onto my knees pushing myself up. He quickly put his hand on his sword clearing his throat awkwardly.

“Well if you heard me why didn’t you stop?” I groaned loudly and bitterly as I turned around and started a sprint up the hill.

“Go away!” I shouted over my shoulder as I rounded up the winding hill. He kept a firm pace behind me up and around until we saw bandits camped out in a small tower. I crouched low behind a snowy covered rock. Hadvar came creeping up behind me sword drawn. He leaned in closely and whispered, “That’s not an answer.” I ignored him in favor of sneaking up to the closest bandit. I sprang up from my crouching position grabbing the outlaw by the throat and shoving my blade deep into her chest. With a practiced twist of my wrist I slipped it out of her body and threw the bloodied dagger into the throat of a very surprised bandit in iron armor. The last bandit came running from my left. I ducked low dodging his untrained swipe of a heavy Warhammer. As I came up for the final swipe of my second dagger I heard a loud shout and a grunt. Hadvar had body slammed the hammer wielding man, kneed the poor criminals face, and cut his head clean off.

“Your methods are sloppy and boorish.” The comment caused Hadvar's nostrils to flare. A sense of smug satisfaction washed over me while I rolled bodies over gathering my daggers and taking coin purses from belts.

He kneeled there eyes trained on the ground as he spoke, “I got the job done didn’t I?”

“Yes, but you made his pain last longer. The simple assholes don’t deserve prolonged suffering. We save that kind of rage for world changing kills that serve the side of protection and justice. Like with that dragon.” He pursed his lips in contemplation. He stood and turned to look at me.

“You never answered my question.” Ugh, what a persistent little thing. “I ignored you Hadvar. I’m not a companionable person. I abhor people who don’t know when to shut up. The only person who got away with that kind of shit was my hireling on Solstheim. But that’s cause he had wit and good stories.”

“What if I stay silent?” I slapped both hands to my face dragging the lower lids down with my finger tips. This man has the intelligence of a troll.

“Why?” I sighed knowing I would regret asking, “Why do you even want to come with me?”

Hadvar shifted his sword around uncomfortably “Oh, well. I, um. I feel obligated to-“ I silenced him yet again with my dagger point to his lips.

“I swear I will kill you if you’re only reasoning is through obligation. If you haven’t noticed I can take care of myself. Find a better reason and once you do, come find me.” And with that I sprinted off. He didn’t follow. I silently made my way up the steep steps of Bleakfalls Barrow. I had quickly disposed of the few bandits keeping watch outside and now I was just admiring the scenery.

It _was_ a dark and mysterious ruin. My favorite kind. I entered the main hall crouching low dodging from one pile of rubble to another. Keeping my eyes trained on two bandits in the mouth of a stairwell I didn’t see the dead skeever. I tripped over its decaying carcass crashing to the ground with a loud clang and an even louder groan. The groan was more out of anger for losing my stealthy surprise.

The two bandits were in motion in a heart beat. A particularly burly Nord was already looming over me, his war axe poised high for the kill. I took one of the lower roads in combat and brought a steel toed foot up hard between his spread legs. The poor man dropped quickly and poor me didn’t roll away fast enough to avoid being squished by heavy bandit. My nose scrunched in distaste. This man hadn’t seen a fresh bath in many weeks. I pushed him off me gagging and slit his throat swift and easy.

The woman who had been with him notched her long bow and took aim. I heard the familiar twang of an arrow being let loose but turned too late. It hit my right shoulder sending me tumbling forward to my hands and knees.

I heard a shout from the doorway at the opposite end of the hall. “ _Oh fuck no._ ” I thought, “ _that bastard wasn’t stealing another of my kills._ ”

The bowman came closer to me attempting a close up execution. I grunted in pain as I ripped the arrow from my shoulder. Within a split second I was up and the arrow was buried deep in the soft flesh beneath the bandit’s jaw. She died with surprise permanently etched onto her corpse.

Hadvar came running up to me frantically checking my wounds. I swatted him away and fished out a healing potion from my knapsack. I uncorked the bottle with my teeth and gulped down the bitter liquid smacking my lips in distaste.

“That shit is disgusting.” I grunted to myself choking on the after taste. Ignoring the worried soldier hovering anxiously by my side I cut some cloth from my armor and started bandaging my shoulder

“So,” I started not looking up from my task, “you think of a good enough reason?” I barely had time to react as he grabbed me. One hand on my waist and one on my jaw tugging me forward into a desperate kiss.


	3. Chapter 3

I gripped his shoulder length hair and tore backwards snapping his head away from me violently. He gasped catching his breath, wildly covering his mouth in shame. 

“What. The. Fuck.” I spat, my teeth grinding together almost painfully. The kiss while not entirely unpleasant was entirely unwelcome. For oh so many reasons. He stumbled forward mouth opening and closing looking for the right words but none were coming. He kept moving forward as I took quick steps backward. 

“One more step and you can say goodbye to your Dibella given goods.” Brandishing my daggers I positioned myself on the defensive. It was not an empty threat. I grew up in the shitty undercroft of Riften. I saw what happened to the women who didn’t have the strength I did. 

Thankfully though he dropped to the ground. It was more of a pathetic crumble he looked forward refusing to meet my eye. The man was unbearably dramatic. Out of pity I sheathed one dagger and sat by the fire the bandits had lit. My posture was still stiff and my in my right hand I twirled the second dagger. 

“Listen, Hadvar, we just had a near death experience. I get if you’re seeing me as some knight in shining imperial armor, but this isn't happening.” I added in a small smile and lowered my dagger slightly. Like I said simple assholes don't deserve to suffer. 

“I don't know what in Oblivion made me think that was acceptable. As though I were being controlled by a daedra.” He still wouldn't look at me he just knelt there, fists clenched in his lap and eyes forward.

“Well, you did it. Nothing really to talk about, just never and I mean never do it again.” He sat there even as I stood and stretched heading down the steps behind the encampment. Well, if he wishes to sit there and torture himself then he may. It was of no consequence to me. Besides I have a job to do. 

“Could you forgive me?” The words floated gently bouncing off of the ancient stones. I jumped in surprise when he appeared right next to me. I had been bent over a small burial urn digging through dirt and ash for hidden gold. 

“I already have. Can you really hate a pup for being over excited?” I stole a glance at my companion to see him standing wringing his hands. Idiot cared too much for my own affections and feelings. 

“Hadvar this is going to piss me off more than a surprise kiss. If you want to fall on your sword over rejection from a stranger you’ve known for about a day, then by the nine do it elsewhere! I have no sympathy for those who dwell on something so insignificant.” The longer I talked the harder my tone became and the more unforgiving my gaze. Finally he looked up at me, but what I hadn’t expected was the raw fury. 

“Lady Arnidottir, I may have made a mistake but these feelings, even so new, are anything but insignificant. I refuse to let you diminish them so.” I could have snorted when he lifted his chin in defiance. How he ever made it as a soldier is a mystery to me. 

“You diminish them yourself by acting like a love struck lad. Foolish and new to the emotions. Act as though you are the grown Nord you are and maybe then I won’t think so lowly of your reactions.” The tilt to his steadfast stance tipped down in shame. He nodded silently and stood a good few paces away as I continued to rummage. I could still feel the anger oozing from his presence. At least he will be motivated to the fight.

We made our way deeper into the barrow. The halls dripped with moss filling our silent trek with bitter smells. Hadvar shuffled awkwardly along behind me. The longer we went on the more I felt my the muscles in my jaw tighten and clench.

"I can feel the misery practically radiating off you soldier." More silence.

"Really this is truly too much. If I give you a kiss will you at least make a small squeak?" I slowed my pace until eventually we stopped. I stood in front of the Nord, rubbing my eyes wearily.

"I know I said I don't enjoy talking but for once I need to hear something. Just one little thing." He stood there with his eyes glued to the dusty stones. I violently threw my arms up towards the sky.

"Fine! Fine, don't say a Gods be damned thing to me. I swear when we get out of here-" I stopped short when I looked at Hadvar. His eyes were wide and his mouth gaping.

"Draugr." The words, barely whispered, almost reached me too late. If it weren't for my years delving ancient ruins for mysterious artifacts I would not have understood what a Draugr even was. There weare rumors of course, stories told by worried parents to keep their children away from crumbling burial tombs and darkened forests, yet few experiences the broken damned of the ancients left to rot for dragon priests. 

When I turned with my short daggers drawn I was nose to nose with a particularly ghastly female. Her nose was nothing but sallow skin sunken into blackened holes. Her eyes glowing a milky blue and unseeing. The rotting flesh fell like rippling waterfalls from mangled dirtied bones. She made a garbled noise from her jaw hanging heavily from loosened tendons. Her gnarled hands raised a dull greatsword above her head with more speed than one would anticipate coming from a living corpse.

I swung wildly, eyes stinging from the intense stench of rotting innards, I caught her jaw cutting the lower half clean off. Fighting off a gag I ducked low and to the right, narrowly avoiding her downward heave of her sword. It clashed violently with the stone of the barrow's floor, sparks shooting off into the dimly lit room.

Hadvar ran in from behind, two hands gripping his short sword as he plunged in sideways into her concaved stomach, tearing upwards with a sickly dry cracking. 

Two more awoke from their dark slumbers, groaning as their feet shuffled wearily and stinking flesh dripped helplessly from their barren frames. Their sight was horrific yet it brought pain to my heart to see them struggle. I took a running leap landing with my daggers stuck deeply into a male Draugr's bony chest. I twisted hard, dragging the mostly dry daggers from the rotted man. Hadvar had already disposed of the third Draug, nudging the other dead bodies in the room to make sure no more were ready to wake up. 

"Well, at least you said something." I smirked down at my dagger I was wiping off with a dead ancients garments. Hadvar threw a glare over his shoulder at me. 

"I may be boorish, but you're reckless." He snapped bitterly. I chuckled happily at his comment. He wasn't wrong, but it was like seeing an angry babe.

"I shall keep that in mind thank you Hadvar." He grumbled to himself as he continued his body check. I hummed a Dunmeri tune as I turned Draugr after Draugr over for coins and jewels. These ancients sure lived their after lives with style. Finally with the room fully raided I turned to my companion and gestured to the hall leading to the next room.

"We ought to be on our way. I'm all too excited to see what's next." I turned on the ball of my foot before adding, "Maybe it will be something big." 

"Bigger than the walking dead?" Hadvar muttered.

"Mmm, much bigger." I winked, moving onward, pleased to have broken Hadvar's silence.


	4. Chapter 4

There was a arched doorway covered in glossy webbing obscuring our path. A small grin formed on my face as I turned to Hadvar and mouthed “Big.” 

“Is anyone there?" The voice was strained and panicked. Hadvar immediately hacked into the webbing over the doorway going in for the save. Just as the last bit of white web was sliced aside there was a small clicking noise. Like a rather large insect. 

I wanted to tell him to not go running in, sword high in grandiose acts of heroism. Shit like that gets you killed. This lad has a death wish though. I watch him run into the room, and hear the gasped “look out!” of our unseen guest, and I roll into a crouch in the back corner of the room to assess my situation.

Hadvar was fighting a rather large frostbite spider, the kind I hadn’t seen in ages. It was badly wounded with one of it’s many legs twisted and slowly seeping blood. Behind those two at the far end of the room was a Dunmer, hanging in a tangle of spider silk. He cheered for Hadvar to kill the spider and set him free. 

I shot up from my crouching position sprinting in to assist with the gigantic spider. I ducked under the legs as it thrashed wildly trying to locate it’s new attacker. Keeping underneath an angry spider was very tiring. I was panting heavily by the time it focused it’s attention back on my companion, and I took that time to strike. I drove my right dagger deep into it’s underbelly slicing up to it’s neck. It made a defeated screech and garbled clicking noises as it slumped over. 

I was splashed with its sticky blood, right in the face and mouth. 

“Oh, I just fucking love those guys.” I grinned brightly, the blood still covering half of my face.

The Dunmer coughed from his awkward position cutting off any response form Hadvar. Said Nord ran up to the dark elf and cut him free in a few strokes. He falls down clutching his knapsack to his chest.

“It’s mine!” Seriously, he screamed it like a crazed villain from a child’s puppet play. And then he took off, like Sithis himself was after him. 

“He ran. Of course he ran.” I gripped my dark mohawk and bared my teeth. I screamed into the hallway after the running man, “I swear by Hircine I will hunt you down you ungrateful milk drinker!” Hadvar was not nearly ready enough for the speed in which I tore off down the hallway. 

There was a lot of heavy breathing and stomping feet echoing in the empty halls of the ancient ruins. Not until I heard the familiar Dunmeri curses did I realize the pitiful skeever had been trapped yet again. He stood at the end of a long hall. The walls were filled with stories of times long ago, the kinds of stories I would love to sit and decipher for hours on end. But this guy was my number one quest at the moment. He stood by a circular doorway with a very old and very persistent Nordic lock. He held a claw, the key, but wouldn’t figure it out. Damned bandits. 

“Hey you filthy N’wah.” The curse brought his attention up from the claw in his hands. I could see from where I stood his Res eyes widening in disbelief. Yeah I knew fancy curses, I’ve been around. Even Hadvar raised a suspicious eyebrow in my direction. I shrugged them both off before stalking quickly up to the elf.

“Give me the claw.” I extended my right hand the other crossed lazily across my chest. He handed it over in defeat.   
“Good.” His death was quick and his body placed carefully in a corner of the hall. I glanced around once more at the history etched into the stone sighing heavily before turning back to the door. 

Hadvar slowly examined the door for weak points to break through as I turned the claw over in my dirtied hands. A bear, a moth, and an owl. I started twisting the loops burrowed into the stone. With a good hard shove they were all twisted into their rightful places. 

I smirked at Hadvar’s awed expression as I pushed the claw into the small indentations below the circles, and the door started to slowly withdraw into the floor. 

I jumped over the small bit of door still peaking up and waved a hand for him to follow. Beyond the crumbling doorway was a cavernous hall. Whatever it had been used for before it was now the burial site of some important Ancient Nord. Far from where we stood, and beyond a short bridge was a glowing wall. It was blinding, the longer I looked the more I could see nothing but the wall. The script was undecipherable to me. 

I walked swiftly ahead of Hadvar as he trailed quietly behind. It was as though I was in a trance. Suddenly as I crossed the bridge over the shallow running waters, my head began to throb with the whispers and voices of something archaic. The air was rife with death and confusion as I closed in on the wall. I stood before it and a nausea slipped over me as the words and swirled around me in a glowing blue gleam.

There was barely enough time to reach out for Hadvar before I fell with a thud, knees colliding with stone as the words enveloped me in their cold blue gleam.

My eyes shot closed painfully for what felt like centuries as I felt a sudden surge of power swell inside of me. The pain increased until it felt as though I would never breathe again. Then suddenly the blue was gone, the world and words stopped spinning, and I could breathe.

Hadvar’s pale, concerned face swam in my vision as he shouted words at me. I hardly had the time to tell him I was okay before there was a sharp cracking sound. We both froze and slowly turned as bony dead hand slipped out from under the stone coffin beside us. 

“Fuck no.” I groaned and dropped my chin to my chest. Standing up I readied my daggers. Hadvar shifted besides me adjusting his sword and shield, readying for a hell of a fight.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of the first part of Rosario's journey but I will be posting a second story soon! Thank you to all that read and enjoyed this story!

Sometimes I honestly wonder "Why me? What have I possibly done to deserve this?" Then I remember exactly all the things I have done to deserve what I get, and then I laugh, and repeat it all again. Right now I was cackling like a madman and I could feel the shifting eyes of a concerned Hadvar. Hell, even the rising dragon priest seemed to look confused from his position half out of his coffin. A slight tilt of his head as that cold mask stared into my very being. 

I mean who wouldn't laugh at how absurd it all was? Other people would laugh right? Internal crisis and soulful speculations aside, I was ready for a fight. My laugh morphed into a slow wistful sigh as the long lost priest finally stood to full height. Tall and spooky. Just how I like my enemies. I clutched my daggers tightly and with a sharp battlecry I lunged at the masked priest with all my might. There was a wonderful sound of clashing steel and shuffling feet as the dragon priest proved to be an admirable opponent. 

He saw every move a step ahead slipping away with a dodge or a countering strike as easily as one would breathe. He didn't see Hadvar coming up from behind though that surprise attack was a short lived victory. With a loud crack of power and a noise like thunder the priest turned and shouted at the man in an odd language. The language gave me a sickening sense of deja vu, but the shouting gave me the opening I needed. I jumped onto the back of the distracted priest clinging to him like a child. With one arm I hung desperately and with the other I severed the area where his neck connected to his spine. 

We both fell with a heavy thud and the creaking of old bones and leathery skin. With a huff I slid off the back of the recently undead onto the cold stone next to it. I was panting heavily and felt woozy, but I still had enough energy to spit out "Fuck you." Before I slipped away into the sweet embrace of nothingness.

Awakening in Hardvar's arms was up there in embarrassing moments, riding high alongside the time I woke up in my old hirelings bed. He had just laid there smirking at me saying something about "not being able to handle my sujamma" which is bullshit and he knew that, but it was the only way to neatly tuck away our very sober coupling. 

At least I knew for a fact that this shy Nord would in no way shape or form take advantage of me. Except for that kiss, which probably was better than most kisses I had received but no I was still mad. I looked up at his stern face as he carried me cautiously from the crumbling barrow. 

"Did you at least get his fancy sword?" I guess my sudden words startled him. And I guess I should have realized my being awake would have scared him worse than the rising dead. And I guess I shouldn't have punched him hard in the face when he dropped me in surprise. So now we sit awkwardly with me trying to act justified as he sat there dejected and bruised. 

"I did get the sword by the way." He pointed to his back and sure enough it was hanging there. 

"Oh good, it will probably go for a good price," I watched him nod sullenly before adding, "of course we can split the price fity-fifty since I punched you, and cursed you, and all." And there was my beautiful tact. Charming as always. He nodded slowly before looking at me with a small smile. Damn it, he's attached that was too kind! I wrinkled my nose in momentary frustration before standing swiftly and dusting myself off.

"We best be off. I'm going back to town with this claw, collecting my money, and then hauling ass to Whiterun. Please, for the love of all that is good in this realm, don't follow after me." It wasn't even fair how quickly and easily I turned away from the stunned man. He came fumbling after me but didn't have a chance to collect everything before I had already disappeared down a snowy ledge. 

Later I saw him across Riverwood talking to family. Our eyes met as I was leaving the small merchant shop and he waved awkwardly at me. I didn't return the action, instead choosing to ignore him as I walked briskly toward the bridge that would lead me to Whiterun. I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration when I heard heavy panting and clanging behind me.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story so I'm sorry for any misspellings or grammatical errors and constructive criticism is greatly appreciated ^u^


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